


Break the Chain

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Baggage, Gen, I named the Wolf the most southern name I could think of and it makes me happy, No issues here nuh-uh everyone is purely rational what are feelings? Shiro doesn't know her, Season/Series 06, Serious Talks, Shiro just wants the wolf to like him that's all, This is a call-out post for Takashi Shirogane, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: A series of one-shot responses to S61) Shiro wakes up after Season 6 in the Black Lion.Keith is there to comfort, and Krolia has something to say.2) Shiro meets Keith's space wolf, and ends up more emotionally entangled than he meant to be.3) Lance has been quiet, and Shiro wants to know why





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It Begins

Shiro woke with a gasp.

It felt like suffocating.

His chest jerked with each indrawn breath, the ribs expanding and decompressing.  His throat worked, taking in air. His heart pumped faster as he woke up. His skin sang with sensations, from the weight of his armor to the scratch of the undersuit.  A vibration rolled through his whole body, familiar and yet alien.

Shiro remembered waking up this morning, tired but ready for the day.  He remembered being thankful the previous headaches and subsided to their usual level.  He’d taken a shower and played with his hair in the mirror, wondering if it was time for another trim.

He also remembered never having mornings, the expansive of time endless and yet still.  He remembered being nothing, and yet part of something greater, something beyond his mental comprehension.

That was what Shiro had lived, yet it felt fuzzier than the memory of pinning Keith down and trying to kill him.

There was only so much that translated to what his brain could take, after all.  Shiro suspected a lot of that year in the astral plane would be vague.

There was a click ahead of him.  Shiro flinched from the sound, which felt punishingly loud.  Each footfall reverberated through the metal of the Black Lion, and in turn through Shiro.

“You awake?” Keith asked.  He spoke at a whisper, as if afraid Shiro was still dreaming after all.  Even so, the vibration of the sound was physical, and it seemed to crash into Shiro’s head. 

Shiro flinched from it. He tried to bring his hands up to cover his ears, but only one made contact.  The rough texture of his gloves felt abrasive against the skin.

Another footstep, then a pause.  “Shiro?” Keith asked, tentative this time.  “I can go.”

“No,” Shiro replied.  He swallowed against the strange feeling of speaking, which only made the sensation worse.  “Stay. I’m okay.”

This time, the pause was longer.  “No, you’re not.”

Well, he was better off than he’d been yesterday.

Shiro dropped his arm and finally cracked open his eyes.  Keith stared down at him, his face soft with concern. There was a hint of something else there, though.  Frustration laced Keith’s narrowed eyes and tight lips.

Even so, it was so good to see him.  Really see him, not just have his essence close.  As if in a daze, he reached up with his remaining hand and cupped Keith’s cheek.  The heat of him seeped into Shiro’s bare palm, and there was just a hint of rasp on the jaw.  Slowly, Shiro shifted the pads of his fingers, tracing over Keith’s nose, then sliding down the new mark on his cheek.

“That was me.”

Keith swapped and took hold of Shiro’s wrist.  “It was the clone.”

Shiro took a deep breath, then let it go.  It had and it hadn’t been. He was still figuring that out.  Instead, he was too distracted by the heat of Keith’s skin on his.

What little strength he had slowly drained from Shiro, leaving his hand limp in Keith’s grip.  He was  _ exhausted, _ and he wasn’t even sure why.  Yes, this body had just been through a fight, and then there was everything with the castle and activating the Black Lion.  But Keith had gone through the same things, and he was on his feet and active.

“Where are we?” Shiro asked, his eyes sliding half-shut.

Keith’s brows furrowed.  “The Black Lion. You don’t recognize it?”

Not that.  Shiro’s entire being had been inside the Black Lion for nearly a year, of course he recognized him.  Even now, that connection was raw and powerful. He swore he could feel each individual screw and bolt.

“The Yavrix system,” a new voice offered.  “Heading from where we were toward Earth. We’ve been travelling for about 8 hours since you were recovered.  Two more hours until we reach a habitable planet that we can rest at.”

Shiro started, then turned to look at the person.  Krolia leaned against the far wall of the lion, legs crossed at the ankle and arms crossed.

“Thank you.”  He tried to sit up, but with his aching muscles and remaining hand still in Keith’s grip.  Instead he slumped back down and closed his eyes, trying to recall his mental map of the known universe.  When he’d been part of Black, he’d known it all, but now the knowledge faded and slipped from between his fingers.  “That’s far from Earth. How fast are we going? Without a wormhole that could take weeks.”

Keith’s grip tightened on his wrist.  He lowered the arm down to Shiro’s stomach.  “It’s going to be a while.”

Another set of footsteps, heavier than Keith’s, came closer.  When Shiro looked, Krolia stared down at him, expression stern.  “Enough.”

Shiro looked at Keith, then back at her.  “Enough of what?”

“This.  Controlling.  Trying to plan.”  Krolia put her hand on Shiro’s chest, the weight of her steady and powerful.  “You are not okay.”

Irritation bubbled in Shiro, as toxic and cloying as Haggar’s influence on the clone.  For a moment his heart seemed to stop, terrified her influence still lingered in this body.  But, no, that was just how deep annoyance physically felt.

He’d forgotten.  Part of him had, at least.  

“I’m not at 100 percent.”  Shiro looked away from her to Keith, who was watching his mother defensively.  “But I’m not getting better just sitting here.”

The weight on his chest increased.  It wasn’t enough to hurt, yet, but it was enough to drag Shiro’s attention back to Krolia.  “You would be if you’d stay still. But that’s not the point. I’ve been speaking to the other paladins about your actions previous to Haggar’s control.”

Shiro’s heart iced over.  He swallowed hard and forced himself not to shrink back.  He could imagine what it looked like from the outside. Had in the moment, or at least the clone had.  Even now, he wasn’t sure what to think of the clone’s actions. He’d felt like Shiro. He’d believed he was Shiro.  Where did one begin and the other end?

The memories of both perspectives made the question almost impossible to answer.

“Do you have a headache?” Krolia asked directly, her eyes burning into Shiro’s.

Shiro swallowed and looked at Keith.

There was sympathy there, certainly.  But mostly Keith looked steady. Older.  Two years older, in fact. “Do you?”

It was easier to tell Keith than Krolia, so Shiro didn’t look away.  “No more than the rest of me aches. I remember how it felt. It’s not like that.”

Keith’s eyes roamed over his face.  Then he gave a sharp nod and looked back to Krolia.  “He’s telling the truth.”

Krolia’s lips thinned, but she nodded back.  “Alright. If you have even a hint of an unusual symptom, you’ll tell us.  Understood?”

It was strange, to feel like a cadet again.  Shiro nodded under the force of her stare. “Yes.  I will.”

“Anything,” Krolia repeated, more firmly this time.  “I want you to understand something. I sympathize with the desire to downplay weakness.  But that  _ became _ a weakness for you.  Your refusal to trust others with your well being gave Haggar a path in.  It got a version of you killed, and it nearly killed my son. It will not happen again.”

Shiro flinched back from the words.  He tried to pull away, but he just didn’t have the strength.  Besides, he was bracketed on both sides, trapping him between mother and son.

Trapped.

Why did he feel trapped?  These people didn’t want to hurt him.  It was  _ Keith, _ who had done everything he could to talk the clone down even in combat.  Who had promised to save him  _ as many times as it takes. _

If even Keith could make Shiro feel this way, what did it say about him?

He didn’t want to talk about himself.  He didn’t want to whine about the little physical imperfections of his body.  They were constant, aching reminders of how he’d never be the same physically as he had been before captivity.  Haggar had seen to that twice over.

But Krolia was right.  A version of Shiro had died, and had nearly contributed to the deaths of the entire team.  He’d reached out ot Lance once, and to Coran later. In both cases, he hadn’t committed fully, and they’d done what they could.  

It hadn’t been enough, because Shiro hadn’t let them in enough.

That had to change.  He was just sorry it took such a terrible series of events and someone else to point it out.

“Okay.”  Shiro took a deep breath, his remaining hand shaking.  “I’ll try.”

“Good.”  Krolia’s hand on his chest stopped pushing down, but didn’t lift away.  The stern expression melted away, so much like Keith’s did. “How are you feeling now?”

Shiro stared at her, at the stranger with similarities to Keith, and couldn’t find his voice.

“Hey,” Keith said, squeezing his wrist again.  “Tell me. How do you feel?”

That was easier.  Shiro relaxed and focused on Keith instead.  “Tired, mostly. Aching. I feel... everything.  More than I used to. Sensitized.”

“You were without a body for a long time,” Keith agreed.  He hesitated, then reached up and pushed Shiro’s bangs out of his face.  “You probably have to get used to it again.”

That was the same conclusion Shiro came to, so he just nodded.  The heat of Keith’s hand on his bare scalp nearly burned. He stilled against the urge to flinch away, then leaned up into it.  The sensation of it was intoxicating in a way he’d never felt it before.

“Humans need touch,” Krolia agreed, with a knowing nod.  “Keith required near constant attention when he was a baby.  I’m assured it’s normal for your species. You need it for development.”

Keith flushed, his eyes wide.  “Hey. You don’t have to bring me into it.”

“That’s how I know.”

“Still!”

A chuckle escaped Shiro, rusty and breathless.  “You had time to get to know each other, huh?”

Keith looked at his mother, brows up.  Slowly, a smile curled at his lips. “Yeah.  A bit.”

“Not as much as we would have if I’d stayed,” Krolia said plainly.  Then the same smile spread over her features. “But better.”

Shiro watched them both, enjoying the bubbling warmth in his chest.  Fondness felt like swallowing too-warm hot chocolate. He liked the sensation.  “I might be touch starved. But it can wait. I’m not staying up much longer.”

“Keith slept for most of our contact.  It does not impact the effects.”

“Enough,” Keith groaned.  He finally let go of Shiro’s wrist, and instead slid both hands under Shiro’s shoulders.  With a grunt, he pulled Shiro up and yanked him over, so his head was pillowed in Keith’s lap.  There was a shift, then something heavier and warm draped over Shiro’s entire body. Keith must have pulled a blanket out and pulled it over him.

The paladin armor wasn’t the most comfortable thing that Shiro had ever felt.  In fact, it might have been worse than the floor. But it was still nice to feel the gentle shift of muscles below his head, and to feel the heat coming off of Keith.  The blanket wrapped around him, heavier than it should have felt, like someone draped over him.

He was alive.

They were both alive, and physically present.

Shiro’s eyes fell closed.

“You need to pilot the lion.”  The worlds slurred together, as Shiro fought the waves of exhaustion.

Keith snorted.  “Black can handle flying in a straight line for a couple of hours.  I’ll move when it’s time to land. Krolia can keep watch of the readings and comms for now.

“I will.  Both of you rest.”  Fabric shifted, and the heavier footsteps stepped away.

Shiro knew he should object.  He should tell Keith this was less important than vigilance, that working with the team came first.

But the words tangled on his tongue, stalled by Krolia’s warning.

The clone had made mistakes.  But those mistakes were Shiro’s, both by inheriting his body, and by his own personality.  He had only done what Shiro would do. The team had reached out, time and again, and Shiro had brushed them off.

So this time, he wasn’t going to.

Shiro let himself drift off as he listened to Keith’s soft breathing, and felt a hand in his hair again.  The top of the blanket rubbed against his jawline.

This was a second chance.  For both versions of him.

He wasn’t going to waste it.

This time, he would do better.


	2. Shiro and the Doggo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's wolf isn't so sure about strangers. Shiro tries to earn his trust, and gets emotionally compromised in the process.

Something was off.

Shiro stared blearily up at the ceiling.  A furrow appeared in his brow as he tried to identify the source of his tension.  Black was calm and serene as a fish below the surface of a still pond, and there was none of the movement or chatter that would suggest a fight.  He could hear Keith and Krolia, but it was the echoes of a quiet conversation, gentle whispers from upstairs in the cockpit. It sounded intimate, familiar, the kind of muffled, distant murmurs heard through the walls of a home.

He didn’t hurt, either.  At least, not more than usual.  Krolia kept terrifyingly close watch of Shiro, ordering him to bed whenever he so much as stumbled in his step.  She and Keith shared the same single-minded pursuit of a goal, and there wasn’t much else to distract her. So, yes, Shiro was still feeling a little off from being returned to a physical body and the fight with Keith, which he was determinedly not thinking about.  They had dragged out blankets and pillows for Shiro to rest on, but Black’s metal flooring still wasn’t made to be slept on.

None of that was any worse than normal, though.

So what was wrong?

Shiro rolled his left side so he could push himself up with his remaining arm-

Only to see two yellow, narrowed eyes peering at him from a dark shadow.

Shiro shot up, heart pounding in his ears.  He took hold of the closest possible projectile - his pillow - and lobbed it hard at the Galra-yellow eyes.

The second the fabric left his hands, Shiro’s gaze focused, and he was able to see the lupine shape in the shadows.

Oh.  Oh _no._

The wolf’s eyes widened at the sudden movement.  There was a flash of bright blue light and sparks, then the creature reappeared two feet to the left.  The pillow, which would have done no damage in the first place, hit the wall with a pathetic sounding ‘fwap’, before going utterly limp.

“Shit,” Shiro breathed out.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

There was another flash, and the wolf was gone.  Upstairs in the cockpit, Keith let out a pained grunt.  “Beau! Not while I’m flying!”

There was a low, raspy noise that was Krolia’s version of laughter, and Keith let out a resigned sigh.

Staring at the pillow on the floor, Shiro took a deep breath, then let it out.  His stomach churned with guilt. Maybe the wolf hadn’t been hurt, but he hadn’t meant to scare it.  He couldn’t even apologize, either. The translators in the lions were pretty good, but he was pretty sure the wolf couldn’t understand English or Japanese.

Well, there was someone else he could apologize to.  Shiro pushed himself up onto his feet, wobbling only slightly as he compensated for his much lighter right side. Then he stepped his way up the ramp to the cockpit, shivering at the cool metal below his bare feet.

Keith was settled in Black’s pilot chair, wearing his Marmora armor.  He was pressed all the way back in it, nearly flattened from the weight of the wolf trying to sit in his lap.  Krolia leaned against the wall, her arms crossed and a soft smile on her face as her son grunted each time the dog shifted.

Spotting him, Krolia’s brows rose, and she inclined her head.  “Ah, you are awake.”

“Good morning,” Shiro said, despite having no idea what time it would be for everyone.  Even asking about ‘Castle time’ made his stomach roll, knowing his part in the ship’s destruction.  “I-”

The wolf’s head snapped up, eyes on Shiro.

Then it vanished again, this time appearing as far away from Shiro as it could be without ending up outside the lion.

Shiro’s stomach sank down to his feet as he watched.  “Oh.”

Brows up, Keith stared at the wolf.  “Beau? It’s just Shiro, boy.” He huffed, then offered Shiro a bland smile.  “He can be a little nervous, don’t worry. He’ll get used to you.”

“He has reason to be,” Shiro muttered, eyes still on the obviously fearful wolf.  The long, fluffy tail was tucked firmly between his hind legs, and the ears were flat against his skull.

It made Shiro’s stomach roll to see.  Beau had done absolutely nothing wrong, and Shiro had attacked him.  Poorly, but even so.

Krolia cocked her head to the side, her brows coming together.  “Something happened?”

“He startled me in my sleep,” Shiro said.  “I saw the eyes first and I... reacted.”

Automatically, Keith’s eyes darted to where Shiro’s Galra arm had been.  “We didn’t hear anything.”

Shiro’s throat tightened.  He looked away, down at his feet.  “I threw the pillow. It didn’t make much noise, but it definitely startled him.”

There was a pause.  Then Krolia’s lips quirked up.  “If you are actually under attack, I hope you will defend yourself more effectively next time.”

Shiro’s mouth dropped open.  “You _want_ me to hurt Keith’s dog?”

“You are combat trained.  These situations happen.” Krolia shrugged, unconcerned.  At Shiro’s aghast stare, she sighed. “We have taken Beau into battle with us.  I am confident he could manage against one sleepy, disarmed human for a few moments until you wake up.”

...The wolf fought in combat?

Shiro looked at the creature, who was still watching him warily, then glanced at Keith.

“He’ll be alright,” Keith agreed gently.  He looked Shiro over, but it was more worried for him than nervous of him.  “He’s skittish of most everyone to begin with. He won’t go near anyone but Hunk, and that’s only because Hunk feeds him.  I don’t think you particularly scared him.”

Shiro frowned at both of them, then looked at the wolf.

It certainly seemed like he’s scared Beau.  

Why was no one reacting appropriately to this?  He’d attacked an innocent animal for no reason. Someone should be upset.  Someone should be defending Beau. Anything.

Frustrating bubbled in Shiro’s stomach, though he couldn’t have said why.  He just wanted them mad at them. He’d messed up. Why were they acting like it was no big deal?

“Alright,” Shiro finally said.  His fingers twitched at his side, but then he stilled them.  “I’ll head back down, then. Unless you want me to take over?”

Keith’s brows rose.  “You think you can stay up for a few hours?  You’re welcome to join us, but don’t tax yourself.  We don’t have pods anymore if you overwork yourself.”

Shiro opened his mouth to say he was fine, but then looked at Krolia’s direct, sharp gaze.  He swallowed hard. “Maybe not flying, yet.” He could feel Black around him, more clearly than he had before his death, and far more sharply than he had as a clone.  Before, the bond had just been there, a reassuring thrum and presence. Now, Shiro could feel each part of Black like he was still one of those pieces. And he knew exactly how much energy it would cost to sit in that seat and fly.

More than he had, even now.

Besides, a look at Beau, still standing in the corner, convinced Shiro that this wasn’t a place he should be.

Keith’s eyes flickered over his face.  Then he pushed out of his seat and stepped over to Shiro, resting his arm on Shiro’s elbow.  Keith came to Shiro’s nose now, rather than barely to his chin. “Come on, rest. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” Shiro repeated doubtfully.  But he let Keith lead him back downstairs, with one last look at the wary yellow eyes behind him.

He’d fix this.  He could do that.

Shiro was going to make this better.

***

Stepping out of the lion was a relief.  Shiro loved Black, utterly and with all his heart, but that didn’t make living in a small space with two aliens and a space wolf any more comfortable.  It had been bad enough for the Kerberos mission, but this was even smaller.

At least he wasn’t in the Red Lion with Lance.  For one, Lance had been quieter around him recently.  For another, he’d take the wolf over the cow any day. They could be house trained.

Today’s stop was a small but lush planet, which seemed to lack any life bigger than forest creatures.  They’d found no sign of civilization with Blue’s sonic scan, which was fine. It meant digging into their stores, except what Hunk could determine was worthwhile.  But at least they knew there was no one with ill-will toward them.

Despite feeling like sundown for them, dawn was just breaking over the horizon.  Shiro rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath of the clean air. “I’m going to go on a walk,” he called back.  

Keith’s footsteps paused on the metal ramp.  “You sure? No people doesn’t mean no threats.”

Fair enough. Shiro still remembered those strange purple beasts from the first time Keith had flown the Black Lion.  This time, he wasn’t injured, but he was slow and literally disarmed.

“I’ll be alright.  I’ll stay in earshot.  And if anything’s wrong, Black will look after me.”  Shiro shot a smile over his shoulder, trying to soothe Keith’s unhappy look.  “Really, I’m just going to do a quick lap around the clearing. I can be on my own for five minutes, Keith.”

There was a mullish look in Keith’s eyes, like he deeply disagreed.  But then Krolia’s hand settled on his shoulder.

“We will call you if you’re not back before dinner,” she told him, nodding.  “So long as you have your armor, there’s nothing to be worried about.” Her fingers tightened on Keith’s arm, like the last comment was for him, not Shiro.

Shiro obligingly held up his own helmet, then tucked it back under his arm.  “I’ll be back soon.” With that, he turned and ducked into the first layer of trees, just to get a bit of distance.

Then he started for the Yellow Lion.

Really, there was no reason for Shiro to be circumspect about what he really wanted.  It wasn’t like they’d disapprove.

Except Keith would probably tell Shiro he didn’t have to do this.  That he could just leave well enough alone, go back to sleep, don’t think about it too hard.  You didn’t meant to scare Beau. He’s just like that. It’s not your fault.

The words burned in Shiro’s stomach, turning over and over in his head until he felt feverish.

It wasn’t right.  Shiro had done something wrong, and he should fix it.  That was how the world worked. There should be consequences to his actions, and Shiro should have to work to make up for them.

So, rather than listen to those words and get frustrated, Shiro just... lied.

Maybe not his best moment, but whatever.

Once he was fairly certain no one from the Black Lion would be able to see him anymore, Shiro stepped out of the undergrowth and made a beeline for the Yellow Lion’s ramp.  From here, he could see Hunk struggling to carry a heavy looking metal box.

“Need a hand?” Shiro called.

Hunk paused, then turned and offered him a bland smile.  “I think you need one more than I do.”

Looking down at the empty expanse on his right side, Shiro snorted.  “Hilarious as the first five times. Do you want help?”

“You should really know better by now.”  Hunk shifted his grip and shook his head.  “Nah, I got it.” True to his word, he carefully stepped down the rest of the ramp, then set the box down in the dirt.  “Did you need something?”

Well, yes, but it felt rude to start off that way.  “I thought you might appreciate some help setting up for dinner tonight, that’s all.”

Hunk’s brows jumped up, nearly disappearing in his hairline.  “You want to help me cook?”

Shiro winced. “I’m not that- well.”  Under Hunk’s continued flat stare, he sighed.  “I meant setting up, honestly. I could use something to do without Keith’s supervision.”

A smile finally broke over Hunk’s face.  “Yeah, I bet. Well, Pidge is going to help out too, but sure.  You want to clear off a space so I can set everything up?”

Shiro nodded and set to creating a space mostly free of any rocks or detritus that could catch fire.  The area they’d landed was pretty open to begin with, so it wasn’t a difficult task, even with one arm.  But it gave Shiro a chance to move more than he had since they set off for Earth. Meanwhile, Hunk got the portable stove and seating started for later.

After a few minutes, Shiro dusted his hand off on his thigh.  “That should do it.”

“Thanks, Shiro.”  Hunk shot him a smile as he set down the heating pad in the middle of the cleared space.  

Shiro watched with open curiosity.  Usually he left this job to Hunk, since he was so much better at it than the rest of them.  “Why do you have that heating top instead of just making a flame?”

That earned him a snort.  “Have you ever tried to cook over a fire?”

“Nothing that didn’t come Ready to Eat.”

Hunk winced.  “Oh, man. MREs are..”  He shuddered delicately.  “Yeah, I’m glad we didn’t have to live off of those.  I’ll take the goo anyday.” Then his shoulders slumped as he set his pot down. “Honestly, I’d take the goo dispensers as is.  Never thought I’d miss an unlimited supply the stuff.”

Stomach twisting, Shiro sat down next to him.  “I-” The apology dried up in this throat.

“Yeah, you too.”  Hunk shot him a bland smile, then gave him a pat on the shoulder.  “Ah, well. You up to stirring for me? I’m just going to get a stew going.  It’ll cook while we let everyone take a break and chat for a while.”

Shiro smiled back and nodded.  “Stirring I can do.”

With another hearty clap, Hunk started to dig out ingredients.  He handed back a large container of broth to Shiro. “Hold onto that.  I’m going to get some browning on the meat going, then you add it and stir after.”  He didn’t even wait for Shiro’s nod, and just started to cut up something deep red.

Well, apparently Shiro’s job was just to sit here with this.  He settled down, legs crossed, and watched Hunk work.

Nearly as soon as the meat was in the pot, footsteps approached.  Shiro offered Pidge a smile and a wave. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.  This isn’t your usual haunt.”

“Yours either.”

Pidge shrugged. “Eh, it’s been alright.  There’s not too much for me to do right now, until we can get somewhere with, like, parts and tools.  We’ll be busy on Earth, but right now all I’m doing is looking over radio chatter. Might as well help Hunk.”  She held up a hand, which he fist bumped without looking. “Besides, Lance is Hunk’s usual Sous Chef, and he’s been AWOL.”

Shiro’s brow furrowed.  “I’ve noticed he’s quieter recently.  Is he alright?”

Hunk heaved out a sigh.  “He’ll be fine. The past few weeks have just been hard on him.  Allura and Lotor, and everything with...” He trailed off awkwardly.

Yeah, that.

Shiro’s stomach rolled.  It had been a hard time for everyone, and Lance had taken the news about the clone particularly hard.  He probably blamed himself for not noticing that Shiro- that the clone was a fake and dangerous.

“Should I talk to him?” Shiro asked carefully.

Pidge pressed her lips thing, considering it, then shook her head.  “Not yet? Lance isn’t the ‘find a dark corner and brood’ kind. He’ll talk when he’s ready to talk.  Best to let him process until then, I think.”

“I tried,” Hunk added.  “He’s not ready for it, yet.  So he’s fussing over Kaltenecker for now.”  His gaze was soft as he looked Shiro over. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

It’s not your fault.  You didn’t mean to. Just forget about it.

Shiro’s stomach clenched tightly.  It was a good thing he couldn’t use the Galra arm anymore, or else he might have broken the broth container from the force of his grip.

“You can add that now, by the way.”

Starting, Shiro blinked at the pot, then nodded.  “Yeah. Sorry.” He unscrewed the cap and let the pale gold liquid pour in, covering the meat below.  Once he pulled back, Hunk added in the veggies that he and Pidge had chopped, as well as a handful of spices.

Before Shiro could think of any response, there was a sniffling nose.  A dark snout pushed past Yellow’s ramp, followed by the rest of Beau. He paused, one paw up, utterly tense as he took in the three figures.

“Aww, hey there.”  Hunk beamed at the wolf, then dug back into his bag.  “I know what you want, I think.” He pulled out a small bag, which crinkled noisily as it was moved.  Beau’s head snapped up, and his bushy tail flicked from side to side. Hunk reached in and pulled out something brown and wrinkly from within it.  Jerky. “Is this for you?”

The wolf’s ears perked.  He sat down, bushy tail twitching behind him.

“Atta boy.”  With that, Hunk threw the jerky up into the air.  There was a flash of blue, and the wolf appeared at the same level, snatching the treat out of the air.  Another flash brought it back down to the ground. Beau chewed enthusiastically, then eyed them all again.  His eyes fell on Shiro.

Then he vanished again.

Hunk chuckled, seemingly unconcerned at the sudden departure.  “Such a weird little guy.”

“Skittish,” Pidge agreed, but she was smiling.  “I wonder if that’s the temperment of his species, or if he’s just naturally nervous.  Bae-bae wasn’t like that.”

Shiro smiled, despite the knot in his stomach.  “Bae-bae didn’t have time to be shy. He was too busy wanting to play with everyone.”

Pausing, Pidge whirled to stare at Shiro. “I- right.  Wow. I forgot you would have met him.”

“Mhmm.”  Shiro took the offered spoon from Hunk and started to slowly stir the stew.  “I was a few times. First when your father was off-record interviewing me for Kerberos, which I didn’t know at the time.  I spent most of the dinner trying to sneak food to Bae-bae. Not really the impression I would have wanted to make, but apparently it worked for him.”

Eyes soft, and without the pain that used to haunt them, Pidge nodded.  “Yeah, it would have. Bae-bae’s his dog, really. We got him for me when I was a kid, technically, but Dad was the one he got attached to.”  She glanced back at where Beau had gone, expression going sly. “You’re a dog person, huh?”

“I’d say so.  Normally they like me more, though.”  Shiro watched the place the wolf had been.  “I scared him earlier and he hasn’t gotten near me since.”

Hunk snorted.  “You and everyone else, buddy.  He only likes me because I have jerky.”  He looked Shiro over consideringly, then took out the bag of meat snacks and offered it.  “You probably need this more, though. You live with him, so that’s got to be harder.”

Shiro froze, surprised.  Food for Beau was exactly what he’d come looking for in the first place.  The rest of it had just been obfuscation.

From Hunk’s quirked lips, he might have guessed that.

It was on the tip of Shiro’s tongue to refuse, but then he sighed and took the bag.  He didn’t like being caught out, but having Beau be scared of him was worse. He’d take the hit to his dignity.  “Thank you. It might not help, but I appreciate it.”

“He’s a dog.  Wolf. Whatever.  A wild animal. They like food.  I think you’ll manage.” Hunk patted him on the shoulder.  “Just don’t take it hard if it takes time. Beau’s not a cuddle with strangers kind of guy.  Like Keith, really. You had to earn Keith’s trust too, right?”

“I did,” Shiro agreed, his fingers tightening around the bag.  He stared at the pot rather than at Hunk and Pidge.

It had been a long, long effort.  Offering help, offering guidance, only for it to be dashed out of distrust.  Those purple eyes narrowed and tense, scared of the hand offered.

Now that face was so much older and the eyes were warm and caring.

But the mark down the cheek kept catching Shiro’s eye.

The silence hung as Shiro started to stir again, still not looking at anyone.

Then Pidge cleared her throat.  “Did Dad ever tell you about the time Matt and I tried to dye Bae-bae’s fur?”

The unexpected topic made Shiro pick his head up.  “You did _what?”_

Pidge smiled, warn but a bit tense as she launched into the story.

Shiro leaned back and listened, and let Pidge and Hunk’s friendly chatter ward away the dark thoughts for the moment.

***

Later that night, Shiro settled on his bunk of blankets, holding the pack of jerky in his hands.  He’d slept less that day than any other since heading out, and so his energy was starting to wane.  So while everyone else stayed by the fire pit, chatting and generally enjoying being out of the lions, Shiro had headed back inside for a break.

It was nice to have some time to himself.  The team, including their latest members, were friendly and warm, but they kept a close eye on him as well.  The charitable reason was that everyone was trying to make sure he didn’t get hurt in recovery.

It was equally likely that they were looking for signs of more _headaches._

Usually, Shiro was able to keep those kinds of thoughts at bay.  He’d promised Krolia he’d be more open with any physical problems, and for the most part he’d kept to that.  If he was straining at a task, or if he’d spent too long on his feet, Shiro said so. For the first time since before the Arena, Shiro was trying to remember his limits, rather than push past them.

At the end of the day - or, rather, around noon for this planet - that left Shiro with some time to himself.

And a very crinkly bag of jerky.

Shiro opened the bag, taking care to pull the top open as slowly as possible.  Beau wasn’t in the Black Lion, but his hearing seemed to be as good as an Earth dog’s.  With the ramp open to let in the fresh air, Beau could probably hear no matter where he was in the field.

“Hey,” Shiro called, voice too low to catch any human attention.  He whistled, the way he heard Keith do to summon the wolf. “Hey, Beau.  I’ve got something you want.” He shook the bag again just to make the noise.

There was a long pause.

Then a flash of blue.

Beau stayed crouched on the very bottom of Black’s ramp.  His ears were perked his time, attracted by the sound, though the rest of him was still nervous and defensive.  Those yellow eyes darted from the bag, to Shiro’s face, and back to the bag.

“Hey, buddy.”  Shiro reached in and held a piece of jerky in his hand.  He waved it from side to side, just for the joy of watching Beau follow with his entire head.  “Yeah, you do like this. You want some? You can have it. You just gotta come here.”

Beau watched carefully, his gaze utterly fixated on the treat.

But he didn’t move.

Shiro put down the bag, so he could just hold the jerky.  “Come on. I won’t hurt you again. No pillows this time, see?  I’m sorry I scared you. You want this? Just come on over and have some, just like that.”  He whistled again, soft but enticing.

There was a long pause, where Beau continued to stare.

Then he took a step back.

Oh, come on!  Shiro groaned and let his head sag, annoyed despite himself.  Beau didn’t even want to take food from him? Like Hunk said, he was a wild animal.  He should want food.

But not from Shiro.

Not from someone who had attacked him.

Not from someone dangerous, who could turn on him again at any second.

“Please,” Shiro said.  His voice was raw, ripped from somewhere deep in his chest.  “Please, Beau. Just come get some food. I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you.  Please believe me.”

But the wolf didn’t move.  By now, his ears had flattened out again.

Failure had never settled well in Shiro’s stomach.  But today it sank like a rock, dragging Shiro’s mood down with it.

He couldn’t bribe his way out of this.  No amount of smiles and charms would fix this mess.  He couldn’t bribe his way into Beau’s heart, not after he’d shown he was dangerous.

Shiro’s shoulders slumped as he closed his eyes.  He let out a long sigh, gaining control of his emotions.

This was ridiculous.  He was being ridiculous.  It was a pillow, and everyone had told him that Beau was just like this.  Keith and Krolia were his people, and Hunk was reluctantly tolerated for food.  Everyone else was in the same boat as Shiro, they’d said.

They’d also said they trusted Shiro, or that none of it had been his fault.  They didn’t care that he’d tried to blow them all up, or that he’d nearly killed Keith with his bare hands.

Shiro didn’t really believe that either.

Finally opening his eyes, Shiro lobbed the jerky, like Hunk had done earlier.  Beau snapped to attention, his ears perked, and he teleported into the air to catch it.  He landed, chomping on his prize, then waited.

“You know an easy mark when you see one,” Shiro muttered.  His voice wavered somewhere between amusement and nerves. Ignoring that, he threw another piece, which Beau also snagged right out of the air.

Shiro repeated that a few times, then sagged in place.  He closed the bag up and offered Beau a bland smile. “Sorry, boy.  I think Keith will stab me if I spoil you too much. That’s it for now.”

The wolf stared, his tail swaying back and forth lazily.

Then he vanished in a flash of blue sparks, leaving Shiro alone in the dark.

Sighing, Shiro flopped back onto the blankets and rested his arm over his eyes.  “It was a pillow. Calm down, Shirogane.”

The reminder did nothing to soothe the pain in his chest.

It wasn’t really about the pillow, anyway.

***

_“Just let go.”_

_The fight sang in Shiro’s veins, as if this is just any other spar.  As if they were trading blows in the Garrison gym or the training deck, killing time or working off tension._

_As if Keith wasn’t below him, pain in his eyes, a sword burning his way into his face._

_There were directives in Shiro’s head, hard and fast rules that controlled him as firmly as his moral code used to.  He’s already killed the rest of the team, uploaded a virus into the castle that’s specifically designed to counter and dodge Pidge’s methods.  They were gone, nothing more than ashes in space. Now he was going to kill Keith._

_There was no hesitation.  A very small part of Shiro found that strange.  The rest of him wasn’t feeling at all._

_The blade sank in further, cutting Keith’s jawbone and up to his eye._

_“Shiro,” Keith said.  His left arm jerked, like he wasn't trying to fight Shiro off, but he didn’t have the strength to push away all the weight.  “Shiro, I know you’re in there. You can fight this.”_

_There’was nothing to fight.  This was what Shiro needs to do._

_He’d always been good at seeing things through._

_Keith’s arm faltered, his strength waning from pain and fatigue._

_The energy blade sank in farther, until there was no fight left at all._

_Keith’s body went limp._

_Standing up, Shiro let his arms drop and tilts his head with a smile, just as the metal below them fully gave out, and then he was falling, they were both falling, the world was spinning and Shiro just caught a flash of Keith’s slack form from the corner of his eye._

_As he fell, the arm was gone, and reality reasserted itself.  Horror filled Shiro, poured into every inch of him that was quiet until then.  He looked for the body, for the castle, some sign that this was a lie, that he hadn’t actually killed everyone, that he wasn’t Haggar’s weapon, looked for the ruined form of his best friend-_

Shiro jolted himself upward and twisted in place.  He was still spinning, he couldn’t breathe, the ground was gone and Keith was gone and the team was gone, and all that was left was ash.

He kicked, trying to orient himself, even as the world continued to sickeningly rock.  But his legs didn’t move, trapped by something Shiro couldn’t make out through the tears and panic clouding his vision.  So he kicked again, lashed out with his arm to cut himself loose, only to suddenly unbalance himself when nothing responded. The lack of weight sent him tumbling to the other side, where he collided with something hard and cold.

The metal of the cloning facility, giving way under them, the sickening feeling of freefall until his wrist was caught and he wasn’t conscious, was breaking, was dying.  He couldn't even pick his head up and close his eyes, but he willed Keith to just let go, to let him go, to let him die after everything-

Something soft and furry brushed Shiro’s cheeks.

Shiro gasped and scrambled back, nearly falling over again when his right arm still didn’t respond.  He saw yellow eyes and flinched back, curled in on himself, prepared for the pain and acrid taste of magic.

Only for a wet tongue to lap over his nose.

This time, Shiro froze utterly.  Then, slowly, he cracked open his eyes.

The yellow eyes were still there, but only the irises.  The fur isn’t Galra either, too long and coarse.

The wolf.  Beau. This is Keith’s wolf.

The wolf Shiro attacked earlier, but who was in arm’s length for the first time.

Beau leaned forward, licking over Shiro’s face again.  His ears were back, but this time Shiro could read it as concern instead of fear.  Projection, probably, but it still made something crack in his chest.

Face screwing up, Shiro reached out with a shaking left hand.  Beau tensed, but didn’t disappear as the fingers slid into his thick fur.

Slowly, tentatively, Shiro leaned forward until he could hide his face in the ruff too.

A shiver ran through him, a sob so powerful it felt like he was gagging.  Another one came, forcing out from behind Shiro’s teeth, then another two, until finally he shattered completely.

Clutching Beau’s fur, shoving his face in like a little kid with a stuffed animal, Shiro shook.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you.  I never wanted to hurt you, or anyone. I tried so hard, but it hurt and I was scared and I- I’m sorry.  I’m _sorry.”_

Miraculously, Beau didn’t teleport away, or even pull away from the hysterics happening so close.  He just sat there, head on Shiro’s shoulder, and waited out the storm of emotions.

Slowly, Shiro regained control of himself.  He sniffled, then pulled back enough to wipe his face off with his hand.  Then he made a face and rubbed it clean on the blankets. “Gross. Sorry, buddy.  I got you all messy.”

“You needed it.”

For an absurd, startling moment, Shiro honestly thought Beau was talking to him.  Then he snapped his head toward the ramp and saw Keith standing there, arms crossed.

Shame and embarrassment bubbled up in Shiro’s stomach.  He wiped his face again, then tried to brush his hair back into something resembling neatness.  “I-” The words came out choked and hoarse, still. Clearing his throat, Shiro looked away. “Sorry.”  He wasn’t sure who he was saying it to. Somewhere along the line, he’d gotten his wires well and truly crossed.

Keith just sighed and moved closer.  He plopped down casually in front of Beau, then sank both hands deep into the long fur of his neck, working his fingers in deep.  The wolf’s eyes closed in bliss. “You know why he’s named Beau?”

The question was so out of left field that Shiro startled.  “Uh. I didn’t really think about it.” He paused, thinking it over.  “Like a bo staff?”

“No, like Beauregard, the name.”  Keith looked over, then shrugged one shoulder.  “My dad’s name.”

Oh.

Shiro looked the wolf over with new appreciation.  “It’s a good name.”

Smiling thinly, Keith nodded.  “Yeah. He didn’t have a name for a long time, actually.  Just ‘Wolf’. But while we were in that time distortion field, we kept having visions out of time.  I saw a lot of when my parents were together, and... it felt right.”

Shiro hesitated, then smoothed his hand down Beau’s back.  The tail gave a single, twitchy thump against the floor, then went still.  “Sounds like a good way to get to know each other.”

“No kidding.”  Keith snorted darkly.  “It was weird, mostly. So the night I gave him a name, was... well.  It was a long night. Beau was there for me during it.” He paused, then let out a long sigh and dropped his hands.  “What I’m saying is that you’re not the only one who’s cried with this wolf. So don’t feel bad. You don’t have to hide from me.  About anything.” His eyes were all too sharp as they looked Shiro over.

Wincing, he looked away.  Instead, Shiro pulled over the crinkling bag of jerky.  Immediately, Beau hopped to his feet, ears perked and mouth open.

Food had worked after all, it seemed.

Shiro held out a piece in his fingers.  There was a pause, as Beau looked between the meat and Shiro. Then he snapped it up, nearly taking Shiro’s hand with it.

Progress.

It was absurd, but Shiro felt like he’d finally gotten somewhere. Like he’d done something right, and made amends.

Maybe that wasn’t healthy.  Maybe Shiro should accept that some things were out of his control.  But that would be admitting how utterly helpless and small he was in the face of the universe and Haggar.

Reaching over, Keith squeezed Shiro’s shoulder.  ‘You can talk to me. I want you to know that. But if you don’t want to, then Beau’s a pretty good listener too.”

“With those big ears, I’d hope so.”  Shiro smiled, though it was brittle. “I know.  I even know what you’ll say.”

“That’s the problem, right?”  Keith sid his fingers between Beau’s ears, smoothing the fur down.

“Yeah.  Kinda.”

Keith glanced over, then snorted.  “Sorry. My answer doesn’t change. I’m not going to blame you for things that weren’t your fault, not the clone’s fault, or anyone’s fault but Haggar.”

The light from outside was still bright with afternoon sunshine.  It lit the room fully, leaving no shadows to hide in. Nothing to avoid the deep burn on Keith’s face.

Reaching out, Shiro brushed his fingers over it.  “I did this.”

“You didn’t,” Keith said.  “Neither of you, confusing as that is.”  He stayed stock still, allowing Shiro to touch, but his gaze was painfully direct.  “It wasn’t you. You wouldn’t. Never. If you can’t believe that, believe that I know what I’m talking about”

Shiro hadn’t felt anything as he sliced Keith’s face open.  Hadn’t in the dream, until the moment the arm was gone and his full sense of self returned.

It was his arm that had done this.

But Shiro trusted Keith more than he was scared of himself.

“Okay.  I can do that.” Shiro dropped his hand, and instead went back to slowly petting Beau’s back.  “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me for the truth.”  Keith looked him over with a critical eye.  “Think you can go back to sleep? You look wrecked.”

Shiro gave a bland smile.  “Thanks, Keith. I appreciate it.”  He wasn’t sure if sleeping was in the cards, but he didn’t feel up to getting up and moving around, either.  “How long until we head out?”

“We’ll probably sleep here for a bit,” Keith said.  “Even when we sleep while the lions fly, it’s not as restful as it should be, since we might have to wake up in an instant.  This way we can really rest.”

It was on the tip of Shiro’s tongue to offer to fly, but he shut his mouth at the last second. That might work for Black, but everyone else needed rest too.  “Yeah, alright. You in for the night?”

“No, I was just making sure Beau hadn’t wandered off.”  Keith gave the wolf a firm pat on the head, then stood. “We’ll be in soon.  Try to sleep if you can, alright? You really need it without the pods for healing.”

Shiro made a face, which earned him a chuckle, but he nodded.  “I’ll try.”

“Good.”  Keith rubbed Shiro on the head next, exactly the same way he had Beau.  Then he gave them both a quick smile. “Be good, boys. Stay out of trouble.”

Brows up, Shiro rolled his eyes.  “Woof.”

Keith just grinned, unrepentant, then wandered back off.

At first, Beau’s head followed him, and Shiro was certain the wolf would vanish form under his hands. But instead he flopped down with a heavy sigh, furry head in Shiro’s lap and eyes huge and begging.

Yup, definitely knew an easy mark.

“Remember that thing I said about not spoiling you?”

Beau’s tail wagged hopefully.

“Yeah, me neither.”  Shiro opened the bag and fed Beau another piece of jerky, beaming when he ate it with no hesitation.

Maybe Shiro wasn’t safe.  He couldn’t know what still lurked in this body or in his mind.  He didn’t know what else Haggar could do to undermine his sense of self. It never seemed to end.

But if Beau was snuggled up against him, begging for treats, then Shiro couldn’t be all that bad.

“Trust in you, huh?”  Shiro fed Beau another piece, then scratched behind his ears.  “I can do that.”

Shiro was afraid.  He was so afraid of himself, of the universe, or his dreams.  Old anxieties choked him, joined by fun, new worries.

But he believed in the team more than his anxieties.

That was good enough for now.


	3. Chapter 3

Lance was watching him.

It was subtle - or, subtle for Lance, anyway.  Shiro only caught Lance’s eyes once in a while, maybe once or twice a day.  He’d feel a gaze on him, and glance back just as Lance was taking a bite, or starting to speak with someone.

But Shiro hadn’t survived this long without good instincts.  He knew how to put together a pattern. Lance was definitely keeping an eye on him.

So was everyone else, but with Lance it felt different.  This wasn’t idle watching, or the half-concerned gazes that meant they were afraid Shiro would keel over.  Sometimes Lance seemed concerned, but usually he was just staring. On the rare occasions Shiro was able to look back without him startling, Lance’s eyes were blank like he was lost in thought.

Frankly, it was starting to worry Shiro.

But what to do about it?

Shiro frowned down at the bowl he was drying, tossing possibilities back and forth in his mind.  The problem was that Shiro didn’t know what had Lance so flustered. Was he remembering the clone’s actions?  Was he watching for more symptoms? 

Was he just tired and spacing out in Shiro’s direction?

Finishing the bowl, Shiro handed it off to Pidge to pack up, then started on the next one.  He had a second towel in his lap to rest the dishware on, and then he could use his one remaining arm to wipe it down properly.  Much slower than he could have been, but Shiro appreciated the chance to actually do something. Now that he was awake for longer stretches of time, doing nothing was starting to be torture.

If Lance was worried, then Shiro could tell him about Krolia’s demands, and how close an eye she was keeping on him.  That would probably help. But it also seem really suspicious to say ‘oh, hey, buddy! No need to be worried, everything is a-okay.  Stop watching me so closely after I just nearly killed you all, please.’

Not a great look.

Or, worse, if Lance wasn’t thinking like that, and Shiro went on some rambling diatribe about being safe now.  The only thing worse than Lance being suspicious of him was knowing Shiro thought he was suspicious. Then it wasn’t that he was reaction to someone’s emotions, but Shiro’s own fears and anxieties poking through.  Admitting that out loud would be awful, especially to Lance. He was helpful, but he wasn’t subtle, and everyone else would figure out Shiro’s anxieties in less than a week.

Besides, Pidge and Hunk had just said that it was best to give Lance space until he was ready to talk.  Shiro trusted them to know best, but it had been over a week since that conversation. There was nothing else to really focus on, and so Shiro kept running over the possibilities in his head, worrying himself into a lather.  Besides, he’d never known Lance to take this long to talk about a problem. The closest anything had come was his crush on Allura while Lotor was with them, which hadn’t exactly been subtle.

What Shiro needed was a way to encourage Lance to talk without starting the conversation himself.  Privacy too, if possible.

There was one good way of doing that.

Finishing up the last bowl, Shiro handed it off, then smiled at Hunk.  “That the last of it?”

Hunk huffed down at the pot in his lap.  “Yeah, for now. I’m going to keep scrubbing at this for a bit to see if I can get anything else up.  You guys are free to go.”

Whooping, Pidge bounded to her feet.  “Good. Packing this stuff back up all the time takes forever.  Do we need to keep it in the box?”

“I don’t want it falling everywhere and taking up a ton of space,” Hunk shot back.  “Not all of us want as much mess as is in your lion. What are you going to do when we pick up Matt?”

Shiro’s lips quirked up.  “It’s funny that you think Matt is any better.”

Pidge pointed to Shiro and grinned smugly.

Grumbling, Hunk waved them off.  “Go, the both of you. You’re lucky I got dishware and utensils at all.  Otherwise we’d be eating food goo out of the bags. No amount of color coding would make us less like animals then.”

Flapping a hand to wave off his objections, Pidge started off.  “I’m going to go over the copy of the castle data we have again.  Just call if you need me before take-off tomorrow.”

Shiro waved, then pushed himself up to his feet.  “Thank you for keeping track of it all, Hunk. It’s above and beyond the call of duty.  If you need any more help, let me know.” It wasn’t like Shiro had anything else to do. Flying was still out of the picture until his energy was more settled (Allura’s orders), and they were only barely making contact with the coalition or rebels.  

“Thanks,” Hunk offered, his smile softening.  “I don’t mind, honestly. I think I’d be more bothered by anyone else messing with my domain, you know?”

“I understand completely.”  Shiro patted him on the shoulder, then glanced past him.  “Um, quick question. Did you see which way Lance went? I had a question for him.”

“Uh...”  Hunk glanced back.  “I think he was heading toward Red?  I was cleaning, and usually I keep track of him by the noise level.  That’s been harder, recently.” One brow arched up as he looked Shiro over.  “Why?”

“Just a question, like I said.”  Shiro shrugged easily. “I actually had a favor to ask.”

Hunk continued to eye him, looking amused at the intentional vagueness.  “Well, his lion’s my best bet. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”  With a last flash of a smile, Shiro wandered off, keeping his pace casual.  Red’s ramp was down, same with all the lions, and he could hear the soft, low noises of Kaltenecker.

As he got closer, Shiro could see Lance petting the cow’s head, trying to soothe her.

“Come on,” he groaned.  “I know you want to go outside.  You don’t want to be stuck inside all the time?  Wouldn’t it be better if you walked out, went to the bathroom, then came back in?”

Still trying to housetrain the cow, then.  Shiro doubted it would work, but he also didn’t know much about cows.  Kaltenecker didn’t seem as smart as Beau or the mice, but those weren’t very fair comparisons, either.

“Do you need any help?” Shiro called.

Lance’s head snapped up.  His eyes widened when he saw Shiro, but he managed a smile.  “Hey. Uh, I mean, if you’re the cow whisperer, now would be a great time to help out.  Kaltenecker doesn’t really listen well.”

“I don’t think cows are usually kept for their ability to follow orders.  Much like cadets.” Shiro offered him a smile back and stepped up. “If you need a hand to push or something, I can offer that, but I don’t really know what to do with cows.  I haven’t had much one on one experience.” He held out his hand for Kaltenecker to smell, which she utterly ignored.

Lance’s brows went up.  “Not a farm kid, huh?”

“Not even a little.”

“Me either.”  Lance sighed and flopped against Kaltenecker’s flank.  “It’s nice to have someone to talk to, even if they don’t contribute much to the conversation.  But it’d be even nicer if Kaltenecker was, uh, cleaner. There’s the sterilization process, but it makes Red smell like a carwash.”

Shiro finally took his hand back, then chanced petting the tuft of messy white fur on top of Kaltenecker’s head.  She blinked at him, her eyes huge and brown, then nudged his elbow. It didn’t seem to be a negative reaction, so Shiro kept it up.  “Actually, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Pausing, Lance stood up straight.  “You want to talk about cleaning the cow?”

“No, not- I would really prefer not to.”  Shiro winced. “I have enough trouble with the mice.  I meant the conversation part. It’s been good in Black with Keith and his mom, but it’s also pretty obvious they’re used to having just each other, recently.  And honestly, between both of them I could use a break from being watched so closely. So I was hoping to escape for a day, and I thought you might like the company.”

Lance’s mouth fell open.  “You want to ride with me?”

“Sure.”  Shiro shrugged, casual as he could manage.  “Why not? I figured you could use someone with a voice to talk to, and I don’t mind sharing the space with a cow for a day.  Besides, Blue’s pretty full, and Green’s going to have Matt in it soon. I spent enough time in a small ship with Matt Holt for a lifetime.”

That made Lance’s smile go thin.  “Ah, so second to last place. Sucks to be Hunk.”

Shiro’s brow pulled together.  “What? No. It’s not...” He sighed.  “Those are reasons. But I’ve been getting bored easily lately, with so little to do, and you seemed the most game to talk a lot.  About stuff I can actually understand, too. Besides, you’re a member of the team and- well, you’re my friend. No second to last or last place about it.”

For some reason, that made Lance’s shoulders fall even more.  “Right. We are.” His fingers dug into Kaltenecker’s rough fur, tracing around a dark spot.  “You’re totally welcome if you want to hang with me, dude. It’ll be fun. Our own private party.”

Yeah, because that was inviting body language.

Shiro swallowed harder, dropping his hand from Kaltenecker’s head.  The cow started to chew on the tied off sleeve on Shiro’s right side, which he tugged back away.  He’d really prefer not to rip one of his few shirts. “If you’re not comfortable with that, it’s fine.  Just let me know. I’d rather you say so now then find out during another 12 hour flight.”

This time, Lance finally looked up.  His eyes were wide, something desperate in the depths.  “No, no! You’re super welcome. The most welcome ever. I’d love to have you in Red, honest.”

He did seem sincere, so Shiro smiled back.  “Good. I’ll bring my stuff over right before he leave, alright?  I have to tell Keith first.” He winced and glanced over his shoulder at Black.  “I didn’t mention it in case you would rather go it alone.”

This time, Lance’s grin was brighter and mischievous.  “Oh, man, good luck. He’s gunna, like, an empty nester without you there.  Probably good to start weaning him off you now, actually. He’s been Shiro-hogging like a real brat.”

Shiro arched a brow.  “So he’s both my mother and my child, in this metaphor?”

“Yup.”

Shaking his head, Shiro smiled.  If nothing else, the next day was going to be very entertaining to listen to.  “He’ll be fine. He knows I can take care of myself.”

Lance’s arched brow was pure disbelief.  “Sure, alright. You do that. I’m gunna keep working on Kaltenecker.”  He smacked the cow’s rump. “Giddyup!”

No reaction but a slow blink.

“I’ll see you soon, then.”  Shiro backed off, a little relieved not to be roped into cow wrangling duty just yet.  

Lance gave him a forlorn wave, then went back to trying to shove Kaltenecker down the ramp.

As Shiro turned away, he let a smug smile pull over his face.

The perfect plan.  Shiro was getting private time to talk to Lance while making it look like it was a favor to him.

“This is why you pay me the big bucks,” he muttered to Black, smiling at the towering lion.

The answering snort in his head was pure disbelief, but it didn’t stop Shiro’s smile at all.

***

With a backpack of supplies and his pillow tucked under his arm, Shiro felt absurdly like a child heading out to a slumber party.

He stepped up Red’s ramp, glancing through the inevitable mess.  All of their lions were feeling especially cramped, lately, between guests, animals, personal belongings and emergency supplies.  Shiro had never been inside Red much, but it was still a surprise to see Lance’s things inside. 

Even after months of Lance in this lion, Shiro had a tendency to associate them with the original line-up.  He wasn’t sure if it was because the ‘original’ version of him had died before the change, or if it was as simple as the color choices.  

“Lance?”  He called.  “Last chance to back out.”

There was a thump from the cockpit, then the sound of armored boots on metal.  Lance scrambled down the internal ramp, eyes wide. “Dude, no way. My lion is your lion, all that.  You can go ahead and set your stuff down wherever. I’m mostly upstairs, so whatever space you want to claim.”

Yeah, definitely weirdly like a sleepover.  Shiro pulled off his bag and carefully set it and his pillow in a corner, where they’d be out of the way.  He’d deal with them closer to bedtime. “Thank you again for letting me stay.”

“No problem.”  Lance clapped him heartily on the shoulder, but there was a nervous shine to his eyes.  “I want to be here for you, you know? It’s been a weird few weeks, you deserve to be wherever you want to.”

“So long as I’m not in the way.”  Shiro’s lips quirked up, trying to stay casual despite Lance’s slightly anxious energy.  “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Lance jabbed him in the middle of his chest.  “You’re not. Not even a little. Really, you’re doing me a favor.  I have a captive audience for my chatter. It’s, like, a dream come true.  Nowhere for you to run, anymore.”

That only made Shiro snort.  “Well, I signed myself up for it, so I can’t mind that much.”  He glanced up at the cockpit. “Kaltenecker up there with you?”

“She’s kinda wherever,” Lance admitted, glancing up as well.  “At first I blocked in her down here, but she’d just stand around by the ramp and look bored, so I felt bad.  She’s not really in the way or anything, since we’re avoiding fights. I don’t really want her to get lonely, you know?”

A small smile curled over Shiro’s face, warmer than the polite, small-talk kind he’d been wearing.  “Do cows get lonely?”

“I don’t know, but do you want to risk it?”

“No, not really.  I think it’s nice, honestly.”  Frankly, it was kind of adorable that Lance was fretting over the emotional state of a cow that usually lived alone in a holographic pasture.  “Can I see upstairs? It’s been a while since I was in Red.”

Lance nodded and waved for Shiro to follow.  “Yeah, of course. I’m not gunna trap you downstairs if I couldn’t do it to the cow.”  He started up, apparently confident that Shiro would follow.

The top deck was actually messier than the bottom one.  Below was cramped, but mostly with neatly packed supplies and necessities.  The cockpit was clearly where Lance had gotten more casual. One third of it was taken up by Kaltenecker, sitting comfortably in pile of hay, along with a bucket of water.  Another portion had what looked like a bean-bag chair, with a projected screen still up, and the Galasu X-90 Extreme Blade System attached. The final section contained mostly the cockpit chair, though there were a few wrappers and empty cups on the dash or floor.

Lance’s blush was visible even under the red lights.  He darted forward and picked up the trash, mashing it into a ball.  “Sorry. I kinda got used to no one but Kaltenecker seeing. Ma would have my head for not cleaning up.”

“It’s your personal space, Lance.  I’m not going to judge for a little mess.  Trust me, I’ve seen worse.” Shiro gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile.  “You don’t need to treat me like a guest. Honest.”

“I kinda do,” Lance said.  He shoved the trash into a small bag in the corner, then picked up his cups.  “I know you’re a neat guy. I don’t want you being trapped somewhere gross for the whole day.  And-” He winced at cut himself off.

That was exactly why Shiro wanted to do this.  Maybe it was manipulative, but he knew Lance couldn’t really help talking more than he meant.  He’d take advantage if it meant making sure things were good between them. 

“And what?” Shiro asked, brows up.

Lance’s cheeks went even darker as he clutched the cups to his chest.  “I just wanted to make a better impression. You haven’t really seen me in Red yet, and then I made a mess of it.  I’m taking being the Red Paladin seriously, I promise, but it really doesn’t look like it, does it?”

Brows drawing together, Shiro tilted his head, utterly confused by what Lance meant.  “You’ve been in Red for months. You’ve done a good job of it. Seeing a couple of stray cups isn’t going to change that.”

“It’s different to hear about it and see it, though, right?”  Lance bit his bottom lip, not quite meeting Shiro’s eyes.

Finally, it struck what Lance was thinking.  

It occured to Shiro that he’d never really told anyone what he remembered.  Only Keith, talking about his scar.

That hadn’t been intentional, but Shiro hadn’t really been willing to bring it up, either.  After all, the ‘original’ part of him had been so ready to hate the clone. It had been a thing, and imposter, who had tried to hurt the team wearing his own face.

Now, he knew better.  Now, he saw how hard he-the-clone had fought against Haggar’s control.  He’d been confused and scared and in pain. He’d done what Shiro had always done, when things were spiraling - he’d shut up, closed himself off, and tried to handle it alone.

But he’d also tried to kill the team.  Nearly succeeded, if not for a lucky contingency plan by Pidge.  Shiro had no expectations of their forgiveness. But they were willing to overlook it while he was the ‘original’, so Shiro just... didn’t remind them.

It had been safe, to keep his mouth shut.  But Shiro was an astronaut. He wasn’t all that concerned with the safe option - just the right one.

“I remember it,” Shiro said gently.  He stepped forward and put his hand on Lance’s shoulder, squeezing.  “All of it. Everything the clone saw. It’s all in here with the rest of me.  So I know how good a job you’ve done, and how well you stepped up as second-in-command for Keith, and then for me.  A couple of cups don’t change how proud I am of you.”

Lance stared.  “You remember?”

Stomach twisting, Shiro nodded.  “I do.” He looked over Lance’s wide eyes and winced, then stepped back away.  “I understand if that makes you more nervous. You’re not alone, certainly. Krolia has been keeping a sharp eye on me to make sure nothing is dangerous left.  And worse comes to worse, I know you all can take me right now.” He waved the small remaining portion of his right arm.

There was no reaction.  Lance continued to stare, mouth parted slightly, and something dark swimming behind his eyes.

This had been a bad idea.

Shiro looked around, as if the game console or Kaltenecker would have an answer to this problem.  Then he cleared his throat and took another step back. “I should have said before I asked to stay.  I apologize.”

“I didn’t know,” Lance mumbled numbly.  His fingers curled tightly around the cups.  “I thought you didn’t...” He swallowed hard, and his eyes shone in the dim lighting.

Like with tears.

Shiro’s heart curled up on itself.  He’d thought it would be awkward, but he hadn’t thought he’d get this level of reaction.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated, rougher this time. “I’ll go. Let me just get my bag.”

As he turned, there was a clatter.

Then Lance impacted with his back.

At first, Shiro stilled, not sure what kind of reaction this was.  A dark, scared part of himself expected to feel the barrel of a gun against his spine.

Instead, two skinny arms wrapped around his chest, clutching at the fabric.  “I thought you didn’t remember. I thought he was gone. I thought he was dead.”

The words weren’t unexpected, but the heartbreak in them was.  Shiro turned, his brow furrowed together, and stared down at Lance’s bowed head.  The cups rolled on the floor where they’d been dropped. “Depends on your definition, I suppose,” Shiro said carefully, not sure what kind of reassurance Lance needed.  For now, he just put a hand on the center of Lance’s back, patting gently. “I remember. I don’t know if I have all of him, but I have that much. The arm seemed to have done the most damage.”

There was a sniffle against his chest.  Lance practically slumped against Shiro, only barely holding up enough of his weight to keep them from falling over.  “Then why are you here? Why don’t you hate me?”

...What?

“Why would I hate you?”  Shiro stepped back and rested his hand on top of Lance’s head.  He used that to try and tilt his head up, but Lance resisted. “What’s there to hate? You’re my friend, same as before.  I trust you, remember?”

Lance’s expression crumpled further.  “That’s it! You trusted me, and you actually talked to me.  Me! About what was scaring you. And then I just told you not to worry about it and went back to mooning over Allura.  I got so distracted by being jealous that I figured whatever was wrong was taken care of. He- you were hurting, and I abandoned you when you trusted me.  Then he was  _ gone _ and I couldn’t even say I was sorry!”

Oh, Lance.

All this time, Shiro had assumed Lance was afraid of the clone.  But really he was mourning him.

Shiro pulled him closer again, doing his best to hug tightly.  “Hey, hey, it’s not on your shoulders. What could you have done?  I didn’t know I was a clone, so how could you have made that leap? It’s absurd.”

“It doesn’t matter what it was,” Lance muttered.  He let go of Shiro long enough to wipe over his wet cheeks.  “That’s not the point. You trusted me. You don’t tell anyone when you’re hurting.  But you tried with me, and I just let it go so I could feel sorry for myself.”

Shiro took a deep breath, then let it go.  It had been hard to come clean to Lance, even that little amount.  It was true that he didn’t handle sharing his weaknesses well. So when Lance had let it go, so had the clone.  It hurt to hear that the reason Lance had let it go was that Lance was just distracted over his feelings for Allura.

Even so, it wasn’t worth this guilt.  Not at all.

Shiro sighed into Lance’s hair.  “There wasn’t much you could do, and I have up too.  It was easier to just pretend everything was okay. For both of us.  You’re no more at fault than I am. I’m trying to do a better job at admitting when I need help.  So maybe we just take this as a learning experience.”

Pulling his head back, Lance gave Shiro an incredulous look.  “So we just say ‘my bad’ and forget it? You died, Shiro! That version of you was barely breathing.  I’m glad we were able to get you back, and whatever of him you have, but that was  _ really _ bad and all of us could have died and you basically died and all of that was because I didn’t try!”

A lot of that was exactly how Shiro had been feeling.

It wasn’t until Lance said it that he realized how absurd it sounded.

“It was Haggar’s fault,” Shiro said.  He cupped Lance’s jaw, making him meet his eyes.  “Not yours. Not mine. She found our weaknesses and exploited it.  She knew I wouldn’t ask for help, and she knew you all would accept that. It’s what I’ve trained you to do.  None of you guys worried about my headaches, because after I told you not to and acted like nothing was wrong.  It was Haggar who did all of it, and we’re going to get her back for it. But we can’t do that if we’re drowning in guilt.”

Lance stared at him, tears still dripping from his eyes.  There was disbelief in the thin press of his mouth, but slowly his shoulders went slack.  “Okay,” he said. “I just- okay. Yeah. We’ll get her.”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to be enough.  Shiro knew full well how deeply unsatisfying and unbelievable it was to be told ‘it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

So he smiled. “You made a mistake.  But I forgive you. We’ll both do better next time.”

Both of them had screwed up, but it had been Haggar who set them up to fail.

Next time, they wouldn’t fall for the same traps.

Lance’s face crumpled as he nodded. Then he shot forward and hugged Shiro again, outright sobbing.  This time, Shiro guilded them both down to the floor, and clutched Lance right back. His own eyes burned, from the revelations and empathy, but he held back.  He didn’t want to cry, not after he’d lost it to Beau just a week ago.

So instead he slumped against the wall and held Lance against him.

Someone missed the clone.  Someone mourned him.

It soothed a wounded, scared part of Shiro he hadn’t been aware he was nursing.

If his essence hadn’t been in Black, if Allura hadn’t been able to save him, then he wouldn’t have died with the team hating him.  At least Keith and Lance would have missed him, despite everything.

It was a penance.  A forgiveness that Shiro had needed, same as Lance had needed this.

Shiro held on until Lance’s sniffles waned.  When he finally pulled back, Shiro used the tied off sleeve of his shirt to dab over his face, clearing off the tear tracks.  “Can’t let Kaltenecker see you looking so messy.”

“Kaltenecker has seen worse.”  Despite that, Lance cracked a smile that reached his eyes.  “Thanks, Shiro. I’m really glad you’re still here.”

“Me too.”  Shiro smiled at him, then nodded to the screen.  “So, I’ve never played your guys’ game. Can you show me how it works before we take off?  Then we can trade places. I can’t fly Red, but I can sit in the seat and look for oncoming trouble.”

Lance brushed his hair back to order, then nodded.  “Yeah, sure. Then we can braid each other’s hair and talk about our crushes like a proper sleep over.”

“We need longer hair for that.”

“Don’t ruin my buzz.”  Lance scooted over toward the screen and dug out a control, then shoved it into his hands, already launching into an explanation of the buttons and goal.

Shiro listened with half an ear, but mostly he just enjoyed Lance at his side, and the joy of doing something silly for a little while.

There had been some bumps, but this had definitely been the perfect plan after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for typos, I wrote this in a hurry to get it out of my brain and get it out the day of.
> 
> Feel free to scream at me about the chapter at bosstoaster.tumblr.com


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